"Sonic 2" and "The Bad Guys"

Let's take a look at some recent kids' movies.  

I liked the first "Sonic the Hedgehog" movie, and the sequel is more of the same.  This installment is more comfortable with the material, letting the evil Dr. Robotnik look more like the video game villain and less like Jim Carrey, and adding a few more characters from the franchise - notably Tails the Fox (Colleen O'Shaughnessey) and Knuckles the Echidna (Idris Elba).   Sonic (Ben Schwartz) is still living in Green Hills with his human pals Sheriff Wachowski (James Marsden) and his wife Maddie (Tika Sumpter), but they're off to Hawaii for the wedding of Maddie's sister Rachel (Natasha Rothwell).  So, when Dr. Robotnik launches his latest attack, Sonic has to deal with it by himself.

"Sonic" is a very easy watch because it's calibrated to appeal to the very smallest children.  It's a lot of slapstick humor, gentle life lessons, and flashy chase sequences.  I appreciate that Sonic is a kid in these movies, full of chaotic energy and silly notions.  He gets into trouble at the drop of a hat.  The plot may be about finding a magic emerald, but the stakes are about Sonic making new friends, and cementing his bonds with his supportive found family.  There are plenty of little nods to "Sonic" lore for the fans of the franchise, but the movie is super approachable for kids on every front.  Adults, however, are not going to get much out it.  Sonic and his pals are all noise and excitement.  The human characters get their chances to be funny, but aside from Jim Carrey they stay on the sidelines.  There's a whole subplot with the wedding that the movie doesn't even bother to pay off in the end, though all due credit goes to Natasha Rothwell for being a very entertaining bridezilla.   

Now the latest Dreamworks movie, "The Bad Guys," has more for grown ups.  It's essentially a parody of heist and caper action films, starring a gang of five nefarious animal criminals, the Bad Guys: Mr. Wolf (Sam Rockwell), Mr. Snake (Marc Maron), Ms. Tarantula (Awkwafina), Mr. Piranha (Anthony Ramos), and Mr. Shark (Craig Robinson).  They exist in a world inhabited by both human beings and "Zootopia" style anthropomorphized animals, where the Chief of Police is the hot tempered human, Misty Luggins (Alex Borstein, and the governor is a fox, Diane Foxington (Zazie Beetz).  The Bad Guys are the most successful gang of criminals in operation, with a hideout full of stolen loot, and a long string of successful jobs.  Their latest target is a golden dolphin statue, intended for local do-gooder Professor Marmalade (Richard Ayoade), a guinea pig.

From the opening scene echoing "Pulp Fiction," to Mr. Snake's fashion choices, to the freeze frame jokes stuffed along the sides of the frame, this is a very self-aware movie.  However, it's also a movie that is very mindful of what it's trying to be, which is a well-rounded family picture.  There are butt and fart jokes, but not too many.  There are movie references, but nothing that gets too obtrusive.  The Bad Guys get to have fun being dastardly criminals for the first half of the movie, but soon Wolf discovers the benefits of being good, and decides to prod and poke his friends into reforming along with him.  The movie gamely embraces the absurd, and the characters have fun personalities and are allowed to interact in fun ways.  Mr. Snake is a grump who eats everything in sight.  Mr. Shark is a master of disguise and super dramatic.  Mr. Wolf is a charming rascal who knows he's the George Clooney of this bunch.

The look of the film won me over more than anything.  This is not a film that had a high budget, but it uses a tremendously appealing visual style, with 2D hand drawn animation over 3D CGI animation.  The line art adds that extra bit of oomph to facial expressions and action to sell the comedy and the silliness.  The animals are caricatured in fun ways that make use of their animal characteristics - Mr. Snake is shamelessly stealing moves from Sir Hiss from the Disney "Robin Hood," and it's fabulous.  Add the snazzy Daniel Pemberton score, and a strong cast of actors who all seem to be doing impressions of other actors, and it all adds up to a thoroughly good time.

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The 2021 Movies I Didn't See

I write these posts every year to acknowledge some of the movies that I've made a conscious decision to skip watching.  In some cases there's a reason, and in some cases there's just a lack of enthusiasm.  I've got very strong completionist tendencies, so I hope writing about some of these films this way will help me put any lingering doubts to rest.  So, here are seven films below that didn't make the cut this year.   I reserve the right to revisit and reverse my viewing choices in the future. However, I still haven't watched anything from last year's list.

Malcolm & Marie - This came so early in the year that it was counted as part of the 2020 awards season, really taking advantage of some of those extended deadlines.  Frankly, the reviews weren't great and the material didn't appeal to me at all - its essentially a troubled couple hashing out their personality flaws, where Zendaya and John David Washington get to deliver long, emotional monologues.  A few film critic in-jokes aside, I don't feel like I'm missing anything.    

I Care a Lot - I'm all for Rosamund Pike getting more lead roles, but the subject matter for "I Care a Lot," involving grifting and elder neglect, was something I knew was going to be upsetting.  To prep myself for similar films, I often read reviews and plot synopses to get myself mentally prepared, but in this case it was totally counterproductive.  The people who love this film seem to love it for all the reasons that I would find it absolutely infuriating.  So, let's move on.  

Billie Eilish: The World's a Little Blurry - So, it's taken me a while, but I've worked out that Billie Eilish's music really isn't for me.  I'm okay with her in small doses, but the mumbly low volume singing really is her thing, and I'm not into it.  I generally like musician profiles and music docs, but I don't think an entire documentary about Eilish is something that I need to see.  I don't need to be convinced of her talent or her appeal.  She's quite simply not for me. 

Gunda - This one, along with Andrea Arnold's "Cow," are documentaries with the admirable goal of showing us life from the perspective of modern farm animals.  Gunda is the name of a mother pig, who shares screentime with cows, a one legged chicken, and others.  It's all well and good to stoke some empathy for the creatures who make our lives easier, but I don't usually do well with films like this.  I hate "Au Hasard Balthazar."  Haaaate it.     

Respect - I spent a good chunk of the awards season hoping that Jennifer Hudson wouldn't swing a nomination for playing Aretha Franklin because I was so resistant to seeing "Respect."  I don't have anything against Hudson or Franklin, but the marketing for this film has been terrible.  I've seen enough bad and middling biopics about musicians in recent years, and this one had all the red flags.  I'd honestly much rather just watch "Amazing Grace" again.  

The Many Saints of  Newark - I watched all of "The Sopranos," and never really became a fan.  The prospect of a prequel didn't interest me because I wasn't too interested in finding out more about the characters.  And we'd only see younger versions of them, so the original actors would only be appearing as cameos, if at all.  I'm a little curious as to how Michael Gandolfini fares as an actor, but if he's any good, he'll pop up somewhere else eventually.

Memoria - Finally, this is a film I'd like to see - Tilda Swinton appearing in an Apichatpong Weerasethul film! -  but the American distributor has settled on the most puzzling release strategy that I've ever heard of.  The film is only screening at one theater at a time with no planned physical media or streaming release.  That means I'm not going to have access to it for the foreseeable future - well, not in this country anyway.    

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"Marry Me" and "I Want You Back"

It feels like an annual tradition now that I set aside a post every year for romantic comedies, which is a little depressing since this is honestly a genre I enjoy, but have little opportunity to write about.  They've declined to the point where you only get three or four good ones a year.  The highest profile romantic comedy of 2022 so far has been "Marry Me," which is notable for having two recognizable stars headlining together.  This is so rare these days, "Marry Me" feels like a throwback.  

Pop superstar Kat Valdez (Jennifer Lopez) is all set to marry her beau Bastian (Maluma) on live television, as part of a publicity stunt to promote their new single, titled "Marry Me."  Of course, right before the big moment she finds out that Bastian was cheating, so on the spur of a moment she finds a random man in the audience and marries him instead.  This is math teacher and single father Charlie Gilbert (Owen Wilson), who was only at the concert to accompany his daughter Lou (Chloe Coleman).  John Bradley plays Kat's agent and Sarah Silverman plays Charlie's fellow teacher and gal pal.  

As someone who is still miffed that Jennifer Lopez didn't get an Oscar nomination for "Hustlers," it's good to see her headlining.  However, the movie is dull, and the character of Kat Valdez is fairly empty.  The plot is essentially the same as "Notting Hill," except dumbed down and mostly devoid of charm.  I like Lopez and Wilson just fine, and they know how to handle this kind of material.  We've seen them do this so many times before.  The only wrinkle is how much more invasive and unpleasant the media scrum is in the age of social media and 24/7 news coverage.  It's immediately apparent why Charlie would have reservations about putting himself and his kid in this kind of environment.  The "Marry Me" song performed a few times during the movie is also not very memorable.  If you're the kind of fan who enjoys gawking at JLo's outfits, however, there's plenty of opportunity for that.

Now, on to "I Want You Back," which stars Charlie Day and Jenny Slate as an unlucky pair who have both just been dumped by their significant others for different partners.  Peter (Day) has been left by his longtime girlfriend Anne (Gina Rodriguez), while Emma (Jenny) has been left by Noah (Scott Eastwood).  Peter and Emma work in the same building and meet by chance, commiserate, and decide to help each other break up their exes' new relationships.  Emma will seduce Anne's new boyfriend Logan (Manny Jacinto), while Peter will befriend Noah and steer him away from new girlfriend Ginny (Clark Backo).  And you can probably work out what happens from there.

"I Want You Back" is not one of the better romantic comedies out there, but it's written and directed well, by people who clearly care about the comedy, and it has a lot of personality.  Logan is a middle school drama teacher, and a lot of the storyline with him and Emma involves staging a junior production of "Little Shop of Horrors."  At one point, Jenny Slate has to get in the Audrey outfit and belt "Suddenly Seymour."  Meanwhile Noah is a personal trainer, and Peter is forced to get into the best shape in his life to try and keep up with him.  I was constantly being caught off guard by clever little moments, like Peter tentatively asking if Emma wants to go out for a drink, and he doesn't even get the whole sentence out of his mouth before we smash cut to the two of them plastered and singing karaoke together later that night.  It is genuinely funny stuff.   

Compared to the glitz of "Marry Me," "I Want You Back" is much more grounded and realistic, with two leads who resemble normal, schlubby people who exist in a better approximation of the real world.  That isn't to say that there isn't still an element of fantasy wish fulfillment involved here, or there aren't plenty of old tropes trotted out.  However, it does them well, with impeccable timing, and lets its imperfect characters earn their happy ending.      

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"The Spine of Night" and "Cryptozoo"

American animation for adult audiences is still a rare thing, though we've been seeing more indie projects in recent years, thanks to improvements in filmmaking technology.  2021 saw the premiere of two of these films, both low budget, painstakingly animated fantasy films with a lot of violence and a lot of nudity.  

"The Spine of Night" is the more familiar project, with visuals clearly influenced by "Heavy Metal" and Ralph Bakshi's fantasy films of the 1980s.  It's an epic story of sorcerers, witches, and warriors clashing over the control of a magical plant and the terrible power that it unleashes.  This is the world of barbaric savagery and cosmic horror, with many images that could grace the cover of heavy metal albums.  Characters with names like Tzod, the Guardian, Falconhawk, and Mongrel inhabit a harsh land that gradually morphs over the centuries from a rinky-dink medieval kingdom into a nightmarish empire of darkness.  

I want to emphasize that this is definitely a film for adults.  The violence is bloody, and the most prominent female character, the witch Tzod (Lucy Lawless), mostly appears nude throughout.  However, she's not built like the usual Frank Frazetta bimbo that you'd expect, but is instead a tough old broad who refuses to be intimidated.  In fact, there's a refreshing lack of the kind of titillating material aimed at sex-obsessed teenage boys that this kind of high fantasy is usually rife with.  All the characters are a little ugly, and a little weird.  Animator Morgen Galen King and writer Philip Gelatt let their saga of horror and woe play out seriously.  While there are moments of humor, it never strays too far into camp.  

The visuals, however, are the main event.  The excellent rotoscoped animation pays homage to Ralph Bakshi, but it also improves significantly on his output.  It often feels like "The Spine of Night" is a movie that Bakshi or his imitators would have made forty years ago if it weren't for budget and technology limitations.  The hardcore ending in particular, full of glorified images of death and destruction, embraces the most macabre side of animation with everything it's got.  It feels like "The Spine of Night" should have a soundtrack featuring every hard rock musician who ever threw demon horns, and my only real complaint about the film is that its score is not nearly as kickass as it could be.  

Then you have Dash Shaw and Jane Samborski's "Cryptozoo," which imagines a world where mythical creatures are real, but very rare.  Facing constant threats from traffickers, a group of cryptozoologists decide to try to put together a Cryptozoo as a sanctuary for the cryptids, despite serious misgivings from various participants. Most of the story follows Lauren (Lake Bell), a cryptid finder trying to track down the dream-eating Baku, with the help of a new partner, a gorgon named Phoebe (Angeliki Papoulia).  A subplot involves a naked hippie couple scaling the cryptozoo's fence and causing mayhem and destruction when they come upon the cryptids unawares.

"Cryptozoo" has some interesting concepts, the Cryptozoo being a thinly veiled allegory for the deeply troubled Utopian movements of the 1970s.   Phoebe is a great character, a cryptid who tries to pass herself off as human and hopes that social equality might be possible for her kind one day.  The visuals, however, are a mixed bag.  The painted, collage-style designs look like something out of a picture book by Eric Carle, the people all slightly grotesque, and the cryptids all vaguely familiar.  There are unicorns, dragons, griffins, and many more creatures, and most of them become involved in instances of gory violence.  The high degree of stylization helps keep some distance between the viewer and the worst of the upsetting content.  However, it also keeps the animation very static and I don't find it too appealing. 

Like "The Spine of Night," "Cryptozoo" is a fascinating film for the way it manages to conceptualize some of its ideas, and how it breaks so many of the taboos we associate with animation.  However, also like "The Spine of Night," it has a third act full of mayhem and destruction that leaves far too many of those interesting ideas by the wayside.  "The Spine of Night" was more of an exercise in aesthetics and could get away with it, while "Cryptozoo" doesn't come out quite so well.  I still enjoyed the film, and think it's worth tracking down for its highly unique approach, but it never won me over as much as I wish that it did.   

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Rank 'Em: The Best Picture Winners of the '50s

Decade by decade, I'm ranking the winners of the Academy Award for Best Picture.  From greatest to least great, here's the '50s.

The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957) - The start of David Lean's great run of epics beat out "12 Angry Men" and "Witness for the Prosecution" for Best Picture.  It remains one of the most beloved British films of all time, a gripping war drama about power struggles in a Japanese POW camp in Thailand.  "River Kwai" also gave Alec Guinness his Best Actor Oscar and revived the career of silent film star Sessue Hayakawa, who played the villain.  

Marty (1955) - I'm so glad this won, not just because it's a delightful movie, but because so many of the other nominees of that year are just lousy.  For years, "Marty" was the go-to example of the romance for the average joe, starring lovers who didn't look like movie stars, but still elicited great emotion and sympathy.  Screenwriter Paddy Chayefsky would go on to a long and successful career, while star Ernest Borgnine kept us entertained into his 90s.

All About Eve (1950) - One of the iconic show business films, which famously beat out "Sunset Boulevard" for Best Picture, but its leading ladies lost out on the acting statuettes.  And it's such a shame, because this movie is all about its fantastic performances, featuring two high-powered actresses played by Bette Davis and Anne Baxter vying for fame, and supported by Celeste Holm and Thelma Ritter.  It's on my list of films that is definitely overdue for a rewatch.  

An American in Paris (1951) - There's really no plot - just a few romantic encounters to connect Gene Kelly's spectacular song and dance sequences.  This is one of the very best of Arthur Freed's MGM musical spectaculars, with Kelly at the height of his powers, and the whole finale taken up with a dialogue-free 17 minute ballet dream sequence.  It's only real competition at the Oscars was a movie Hollywood may not have been ready for - "A Streetcar Named Desire."

On the Waterfront (1954) - Between the iffy behavior of director Elia Kazan and the excellent performances of Marlon Brando, Karl Malden, and Eva Marie Saint, this is where I landed with the gritty crime drama "On the Waterfront."  I feel like the politics have overshadowed a film that still works pretty well dramatically, and has other topics and themes on its mind, notably systemic corruption.  In hindsight, it may also be the high water mark of Brando's impressive career. 

Ben-Hur (1959) - I'm certainly not immune to spectacle, and there are few religious spectacles of this era that can match up to "Ben-Hur," with its chariot races and slave galleys, and Charlton Heston battling mightily for his Oscar statuette.  I'd have picked "The Nun's Story" for Best Picture, personally, but there was no stopping the momentum of "Ben-Hur."  It was not only a massive box office hit, but won a record eleven Oscars in a single ceremony - a feat that's never been topped.  

From Here to Eternity (1953) - I don't really understand the love for this film, which is a wartime drama set on Oahu, just before the attack on Pearl Harbor.  The soldiers being subject to the whims of a barbaric system full of sadistic individuals is all well and good - but the romances that take up so much of the story fell completely flat for me.  Still, between the work of a strong cast, and a stellar production, it still has enough strong elements to be worth a watch.

Gigi (1958) - Here's where we start getting to the winners that have aged badly.  I liked "Gigi" quite a lot when I was younger, as a musical romance, but the questionable premise just gets more uncomfortable with every passing year.  I mean, "Thank Heaven for Little Girls" comes from this movie!  The production is still gorgeous, but I think we'd all have felt a lot better if the 1958 Best Picture had gone to "The Defiant Ones," "Auntie Mame," or "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof."

Around the World in 80 Days (1956) - How this beat "The Ten Commandments," and "The King and I," I have no idea.  I don't dislike this version of "Around the World in 80 Days" at all, but it's such a frivolous comedic affair, loaded down with famous stars and cameos.  I can appreciate it as a huge logistical achievement that only Hollywood could have gotten made at the time, but its careless caricatures of different cultures and peoples make this one a curiosity at best to modern eyes.

The Greatest Show on Earth (1952) - This box office smash is widely considered one of the worst Best Picture winners, because so much of it is simply a filmed Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey show, with some stale melodrama tacked on.  This has plenty of historical value, but much less entertainment value.  "High Noon" and "The Quiet Man" are favorites that it beat out for the statuette.  

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My Favorite Tsai Ming-Liang Film

I've had a complicated relationship with Chinese-language films and filmmakers.  I've always felt a certain obligation to watch Chinese cinema, but I've had difficulty connecting with many of the major talents.  It's taken me a long time to work through my own cultural baggage and actually explore the films of Hong Kong, Taiwan, and the mainland.  Taiwanese filmmakers in particular hold a lot of interest for me, because in a not-too-alternate universe, Taiwan would be home, and its native cinema would be my own.  And Tsai Ming-Liang's films are the ones I think of when I think of life in Taiwan, capturing the feel and the rhythms of the country like no others.

I feel like I'm taking the easy way out, picking Tsai Ming-Liang's simplest, most minimalist film as my favorite.  However, he does something in "Goodbye, Dragon Inn" that I connect with very deeply.  The film captures the experience of going to a movie theater and watching a movie better than any other screen depiction I've ever seen.  This might seem strange, but most films that depict the act of movie-watching tend to mythologize or glamorize the act.  In "Goodbye," the theater is a lonely, mostly empty place.  This is the final screening, on a gloomy, rainy night, before this particular theater closes permanently.  The movie that is playing is King Hu's classic wuxia film, "Dragon Inn," which we see in glimpses as the camera follows various patrons and staff through the theater.  There only seem to be two workers, the projectionist and the ticket taker, who walks slowly using a leg brace.  They are played by Tsai regulars, Lee Kang-Sheng and Chen Shiang-Chyi respectively.  None of the characters have names, but eagle-eyed fans will notice that two of the stars of "Dragon Inn," Shih Chun and Miao Tien, are in attendance.  And the atmosphere is utterly absorbing and perfect.          

Most of Tsai Ming-Liang films are slow and unhurried, with a very loosely constructed plot if there is one at all.  He makes capital-A Art films that watch the characters live out their ordinary lives, often marked by loneliness and disconnection.  The same actors appear again and again, and it always seems to be raining.  Sometimes the mood is dark and nihilistic, and sometimes wry and funny, and sometimes brash and vulgar.  In "Goodbye, Dragon Inn," the mood is nostalgic.  Tsai set and filmed the feature in the real Fu-Ho Theater at the edge of Taipei, after learning it was set to close down.  It's shot in long, long takes where not much happens, but we get a good sense of the enormity of the space, and can glean a few things about the characters from their sparse interactions.  There's one man trying and failing to initiate a homosexual encounter.  The projectionist, holed up in his little room, coolly states that the theater is haunted.  The audience is very sparse, but largely respectful.  I'm always the most fascinated with the ticket taker, steadily thumping her way down the long hallways and navigating the stairwells.  She's the very last to leave, after the screening is over and the theater is closed up, and we see her thumping her way into the rainy night.       

I've thought about this film an awful lot during the pandemic, as many movie theaters around the world have shared the fate of the Fu-Ho Theater.  Movie theaters are magical places, where strangers convene to share a common experience.  Filmmakers are some of the biggest film fans, so I find it odd that films about movie theaters are fairly rare.  "Dragon Inn" is a favorite for a lot of Chinese filmmakers, and it's been remade multiple times.  However, seeing the silhouette of Chen Shiang-Chyi at the corner of the giant screen as "Dragon Inn" is playing, and watching the lights reflected back on the faces of the theater audience is an homage that feels so much more intimate and personal.  And it's an homage that feels so right for Tsai Ming-Liang, who ends all his films on a black screen bearing his signature, before the credits roll.      

What I've Seen - Tsai Ming-Liang

Rebels of the Neon God (1992)

Vive L'Amour (1994)

The River (1997)

The Hole (1998)

What Time Is It There? (2001)

Goodbye, Dragon Inn (2003)

The Wayward Cloud (2005)

I Don't Want to Sleep Alone (2006)

Stray Dogs (2013)

Days (2020)

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"House of Gucci" is a Memorable Mess

I wasn't originally going to write a review for "House of Gucci," because it's not good enough or bad enough to get worked up about.  However, the more I think about this movie, the weirder it is.  Just the talent involved demands some attention and scrutiny.  At the top of the list is Ridley Scott, who can add this picture to his growing collection of films about wealthy people being horrible to their family members.  The cast is boggling, with Adam Driver playing young Gucci scion Maurizio, Lady Gaga as his wife Patrizia, Jeremy Irons as his disapproving father Rodolfo, Al Pacino as his uncle Aldo, and Jared Leto as cousin Paolo, truly one of the most unfortunate abuses of latex seen on the silver screen in a while. Jack Huston and Salma Hayak also show up in minor roles.

Now, I understand why the film made money, because the trashy soap opera antics of people with famous last names, combined with a little true crime intrigue will always attract a certain amount of interest.  However, this is such a terribly ineffectual telling of a story that should have way more entertainment value than it does.  It's two and a half hours long, and doesn't do too badly setting up the characters and all of the stakes and positions and alliances, with all the expected camp and ridiculousness that the ads have suggested.  However, when we get down to the business of the actual criminal undertaking, suddenly the perspective shifts almost totally away from Patrizia, the central figure in the story up to this point, in favor of Maurizio.  I don't begrudge him the attention, but it means the complete sidelining of a major player for an unacceptable amount of time.  As a result it loses track of the emotional throughline of the major conflict, completely fails to build any tension up to the climax, and speeds through the third act to arrive at the ending with a thud.      

Some of the performances are so good that it's easy to ignore the film's flaws for a good long while.  Lady Gaga is fabulous as the hot-blooded Patrizia, and it's fun to watch her navigate the Gucci family's complicated dealings, 1980s fashions trends, and her own emotional well-being.  Pacino and Irons are dependably strong, and Adam Driver does a lot with a role that is very half baked.  All of these actors are playing broad caricatures of Italians, using accents that can be charitably described as cartoonish, but one can still suspend disbelief enough to accept them as human beings.  The same is not true of what Jared Leto decides to do with Paolo, which is to don a fatsuit, adopt a Super Mario speech pattern that seems to be picking a fight with the entire notion of being Italian, and gnaw on the scenery with everything he's got.    

"House of Gucci" has been dinged from other corners for being tonally inconsistent and playing up the buffoonery of the Gucci clan.  My biggest problem with the film is that it's woefully unbalanced, oddly edited, and badly written.  The movie is about the Gucci company more than it is about any of the Gucci family members, which is great if you're making a movie about a big success in the fashion world, and not so great when you're making one about family betrayals, fraud, and murder.  It's a very bad sign when it feels like the film just kind of skips over the motivations of the killer, who clearly has very complicated feelings about the whole endeavor.  I would've loved to see what some of the actors were really capable of with these roles, especially Driver and Lady Gaga.   

"House of Gucci" looks great at least, playing up the big hair and fashions of the 1980s, and showing off the Guccis' wealth.  This is a film with a fairly high budget, and is proof that Ridley Scott still has the clout to get things done his way.  Unfortunately, despite the high class production, the film feels ill-conceived and sometimes almost incompetently put together.  No matter how juicy the material is, or how colorful the characters are, a melodrama still needs to be properly dramatic, and "House of Gucci," for all its fireworks and eye candy, never managed to put down a solid enough foundation to sustain its operatic aims. 

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Scrutinizing "A Hero"

I regret that this is the first Asghar Farhadi film I've written about, though I've seen several.  His films are about ordinary people in Iranian society, who face difficult ethical quandaries exacerbated by their religious and social realities.  Seemingly clear-cut situations and simple plans tend to go awry and become complicated very quickly.  His best films are essentially morality plays, specific to the modern Iranian milieu.  "A Hero" is his latest, currently in the middle of a plagiarism scandal. It's about a debtor temporarily granted leave from incarceration, who hatches a scheme to stay out of prison.

Rahim Soltani (Amir Jadidi) decides he'll play the part of a hero, taking a bag found by his girlfriend Farkhondeh (Sahar Goldoust), and returning it to its owner instead of using the gold inside to pay off his debt.  The publicity from being a good Samaritan initially brings Rahmin attention, job offers, and monetary help.  However, his unhappy creditor, Brahman (Mohsen Tanabandeh), isn't convinced by the story.  Soon Rahmin is put in the position of having to prove his version of events to an investigator (Ehsan Goodarzi), and dragging other people into the messy situation, including Farkhondeh, his sister Malileh (Maryam Shahdaie), and his young son Siavash (Saleh Karimai).    

The cultural context needed to parse all the different relationships and obligations in play here is a little daunting at first.  I struggled with how to describe Farkhondeh, because she's the woman Ramin "intends to marry," not technically a fiancee, and the term girlfriend feels inadequate.  Brahman's grudge doesn't just have to do with the debt, but with how it was handled by Rahmin, resulting in the loss of Brahman's daughter's dowry.  However, once Rahmin gets the ball rolling with his little scheme, and the media flurry begins, the themes of "A Hero" are immediately very universal.  Rahmin painting himself as a hero invites scrutiny that he didn't anticipate, soon finds the fickle public opinion turned against him, and considers increasingly desperate measures to get everyone back on his side.  In the process, Farhadi asks his audience to consider the nature of altruism.  Does it matter that Ramin initially wanted to keep the money?  Or that it may have been returned to the wrong person?  Or that he chose to publicize his act?       

The actors are all very good, Amir Jadidi in particular.  Farhadi's leading men tend to conform to a certain type, and Jadidi bucks this image a bit because Rahmin is a very slippery figure who is creative with the truth.  Though he does display a good amount of moral fiber, and there's plenty to admire about him, he's not trustworthy in the least.  This makes Rahmin fascinating to watch as he tries to squirm his way out of his lies, and keep his house of cards from falling.  I appreciate that as Rahmin's story starts to unravel, it allows him to show his good side as much as it shows his bad side.  Nothing is simple in this universe, least of all the hero of the piece.          

Farhadi's filmmaking is simple and straightforward, but is very proficient at capturing many different viewpoints and the involvement of many different characters.  There are many minor, but vital figures, including the woman who heads a charity duped by Ramin, and Brahman's protective daughter, who have a significant impact on the story.  Siavash is present for many scenes, and registers as a major character even though a speech impediment keeps him from saying much.  And more importantly, Rahmin's awareness of Siavash in these scenes becomes key to his decisionmaking as the situation gets more unstable.    

It was a relief to find "A Hero" this year, after failing to connect with so many other films.  Its lack of frills may feel old fashioned at times, but its construction is flawless and its aims are compelling.  Farhadi tells a very familiar story, but one that's never felt more timely or more necessary.  Whether it's actually his story or not, it's as good a place as any to start with his films, which I really haven't shown enough appreciation for.         

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The Glare of "Red Rocket"

I'm going to try not to reveal too much, but there are some spoilers ahead.

"Red Rocket" is the latest film from Sean Baker, the director of "Tangerine" and "The Florida Project."  It's about a porn actor, Mikey Saber (Simon Rex) who returns to his remote hometown of Texas City, broke and lacking in prospects.  However, he is charming and wily - wily enough to talk himself back into the home of his hostile ex-wife, Lexi (Bree Elrod) and her mother Lil (Brenda Deiss).  Soon he's dealing drugs for his old boss Leondria (Judy Hill) and palling around town with neighbor kid Lonnie (Ethan Darbone).  And then he spots a seventeen year-old girl named Raylee (Suzanna Son) working at the local donut shop, and falls hopelessly in love.  

If you're familiar with Sean Baker's previous films, this feels like familiar territory at first.  Sex workers have been at the center of many of his stories, and fast-talking, self-aggrandizing Mikey doesn't seem too different at first from Sin-Dee Rella and friends from "Tangerine."  He's dim, but affable, and has a relentlessly positive attitude.  He runs small scale grifts and cons, but nothing too bad.  However, as Mikey settles in, his behavior grows worse and worse, and when things inevitably go sideways, the people closest to him always sustain the most damage from his actions.  "Red Rocket" turns out to be an excellent profile of a totally unscrupulous narcissist dirtbag, and so much of the suspense of the film is seeing just how low he's willing to sink.  But even when Mikey is at his worst, Simon Rex is able to keep him effortlessly charismatic.  It's easy to believe that he isn't doing anything wrong for much of the film, because he's completely unable to see his own behavior as harmful and toxic.  It's a fantastic performance and well worth watching the film to see.  

I expected that "Red Rocket" would be a difficult watch due to its uncomfortable subject matter, but the tone is kept very light and funny throughout.  Mikey's bad behavior is never too tough to take, because he's so incompetent in his schemes, and his presence is well balanced by the women around him, who are a great collection of tough, colorful personalities.  Leondria and her daughter June (Brittney Rodriguez) are the closest thing the film has to heavies, and the film gets so much mileage out of their complete mistrust of Mikey and their particular family dynamics.  Lexi becomes more and more sympathetic as the film goes on, when you realize the extent to which Mikey has affected her life, but is never any less irascible or hilarious.  And then there's Raylee, who likes to go by Strawberry, and walks that fine line between being precocious and naive, seemingly having the upper hand while also clearly having no appreciation of what she's getting herself into.        

As with Baker's previous projects, "Red Rocket" is a verite style production, employing many nonprofessional actors, and shot largely in existing locations in Texas City.  The featured donut shop is real, and was reported open for business during most of the filming process.  Mikey's penchant for long bike rides shows off the surrounding scenery - or really the lack thereof.  Texas City was clearly chosen for the film because it's an oil refinery town where the working class characters frequently look like they exist in the middle of nowhere.  Cinematographer Drew Daniels keeps the visuals generally grounded in reality, but there are a few important scenes where certain elements are heightened to reflect Mikey's view of the world.        

"Red Rocket" has considerably more pointed messaging than Baker's previous films, and it's easy to draw parallels to various political figures and social ills.  Though there are a lot of laughs, I'd caution that this is also one of his darkest films, tiptoeing awfully close to subjects that are frankly horrific.  As always, Baker shines a light on the lives of those on the bottom rung of the social ladder, but this time around he acknowledges that not everyone who's disadvantaged deserves our sympathy.      

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There's Lots to Like About "Licorice Pizza"

I was not looking forward to Paul Thomas Anderson's "Licorice Pizza," which for a long time had the unappealing working title, "Soggy Bottom."  It takes place in 1973 and 1974 in the San Fernando Valley, and follows the relationship that develops between a fifteen year-old boy, Gary Valentine (Cooper Hoffman) and a twenty-five year old woman, Alana Kane (Alana Haim).  There's been a lot of grumbling from various corners about the significant age gap, and some Orientalist nonsense involving a restaurateur, one of the many, many people that Gary and Alana encounter during their adventures.  

I haven't had the best time with films set in this time period.  Especially ones made by directors who are nostalgic for their high school days.  Especially when they involve teenage boys getting into teenage boy antics.  What caught me off guard about "Licorice Pizza" is that the narrative is pretty even split between Gary and Alana, and despite the age gap, they're on about the same level maturity-wise.  Alana starts out as a photographer's assistant who is still living with her protective parents.  Gary, on the other hand, is a rapidly aging child actor who is used to fending for himself, since his mother Anita (Mary Elizabeth Ellis) is frequently away on business.  During the course of the film, Gary starts up multiple businesses on his own, including a successful waterbed retailer staffed by his own circle of friends.  He's also the one who approaches and pursues Alana from the opening scene.  

This isn't to say that the age gap isn't acknowledged and doesn't cause problems.  Alana immediately nixes anything romantic, but she likes hanging out with Gary and his friends, and really struggles to get her head around the idea that she likes hanging out with Gary and his friends.  She tries a few different jobs, including being an actress and working for a political campaign, trying to navigate her own path into adulthood.  Gary, meanwhile, knows what he wants from the start, but is often tripped up by his own immaturity.  However, his earnestness and confidence are great assets, and it helps that Gary isn't the typical horndog movie teenager with sex as his ultimate end goal.  To my surprise, aside from a couple of funny salacious moments, the romance is actually very sweet.          

 

For a film nerd, the film's secret weapon is its showbiz cameos.  Gary's experiences are based on the life of producer Gary Goetzman, and many of the people in the film are based on other celebrities.  Thinly disguised versions of a cranky Lucille Ball (Christine Ebersole) and self-obsessed William Holden (Sean Penn) appear.  Alana's campaigning work is for Joel Wachs (Benny Safdie), and there's a hysterical waterbed delivery encounter with a very intense Jon Peters (Bradley Cooper), known best as Barbara Streisand's boyfriend at the time.  And in spite of the star power, the very average-looking Haim and Cooper have no trouble at all carrying the film and holding their own.  I especially like Alana Haim in this film, who has a very appealing presence and vibe. 

Paul Thomas Anderson creates an immersive world, as always, full of little details.  It's great to watch the characters just get lost in the beautifully laid out environments, like the long tracking shots traveling through a high school gym or a convention where you can spot Herbie the Love Bug and John C. Reilly cameoing as Fred Gwynne.  The soundtrack and the film grain are era appropriate, of course, but what impresses me most is that Anderson is so good at making his characters feel like real people, and eliding the artifice of their construction, even when he's being as self-indulgent as he obviously is here.  I love that Alana Haim's parents and sisters are recruited to play her fractious family in the film, adding that extra little touch of authenticity to their interactions.

There's plenty of era-appropriate bad behavior going on - smoking, unsupervised children, ignorant racism, and predatory behavior by some of the adults - but most of it is used critically, often to show how ridiculous the people involved are.  One of the bits that has caused the most fuss has been about that awful restaurateur played by John Michael Higgins, who only speaks in horrible mock Japanese to his Asian wife, who speaks no English.  You're meant to cringe at the sheer absurdity of the situation, and Higgins really commits to it, which I respect.

    

I understand why some viewers would be uncomfortable with this, but it worked for me.  I laughed and I enjoyed myself, which is more than I can say for a lot of movies this year.

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The Power (Ballad) of "Peacemaker"

I have been comparing way too much superhero media to "The Venture Brothers" recently, but "Peacemaker" is one of the most obvious successors to that show yet.  It's about a costumed crime-fighter trying to get out of the shadow and influence of his terrible father, is constantly taking potshots at beloved genre media, and stars a group of damaged oddballs who bond by engaging in gratuitous violence together.  And don't get me started on the reverence for obscure rock music or the sinister butterflies.  

James Gunn spun off "Peacemaker" from last year's "The Suicide Squad," where the character of Christopher "Peacemaker" Smith (John Cena) was introduced as a trigger-happy supervillain willing to kill anybody in the name of peace.  The series, which is entirely written and directed by Gunn, is a direct sequel that sees Peacemaker recruited for a new black ops mission lead by Clemson Murn (Chukwudi Iwuji).  The team includes no nonsense Agent Harcourt (Jennifer Holland), tech guy Economos (John Agee) and newbie Leota (Danielle Brooks).  Eventually Peacemaker's self-appointed bestie Adrian "Vigilante" Chase (Freddie Stroma), and his actual bestie, an eagle named Eagly, join the fight.  They're pitted against various opponents, but the biggest villain may well be Auggie Smith (Robert Patrick), Peacemaker's racist, misogynist, conspiracy theorist father.   

Similar to DC's "Harley Quinn" animated series, "Peacemaker" takes an irreverent approach to superhero-dom, existing in the same universe where Superman and Wonder Woman exist, but focusing on the jerks and the losers who populate the crime-fighting D-list.  All the characters in this show are some degree of scummy, and most of the heroes act like middle school kids who never stopped trying to one-up or trash talk each other.  The difference between this and something like "The Boys" is that characters like Peacemaker and Vigilante are very redeemable in spite of their aggressively puerile behavior.  Peacemaker's arc in this series is realizing that he has been a terrible person, and the ultra-masculine persona that he's so committed to is masking a lot of unprocessed trauma.  He can be an actual hero if he wants to be, and it turns out that he wants to be.  There's also the same "The Suicide Squad" theme of found family and redemptive friendships triumphing over cynicism and apathy.   

I feel I should warn that this show is even more R-rated than "The Suicide Squad," featuring sex and nudity, constant cursing, plentiful gore, and offensive terms being thrown around.  "Peacemaker" might be mistaken for something more family friendly because of the brightly colored costumes and high-quality CGI, and honestly it's got a pretty typical superhero structure underneath everything requiring content warnings, but it's emphatically adult from the opening scene.  However, I appreciate that the dudebro humor is very smartly written and self-aware.  Gunn never misses a chance to dunk on the hate-spewers, and positions characters like Leota, a happily married black lesbian, and a policewoman named Sophie Song (Annie Chang) as the voices of reason.  He's also not afraid of riling up the DC fanbase, regularly mocking more famous superheroes.   

The lynchpin of "Peacemaker," however, is absolutely John Cena, who has become a major comedic force over the past decade, and has clearly found his signature role.  His ability to rattle off obscure pop-culture references, share a genuinely sweet relationship with a CGI eagle, and stay straight faced while wearing a ridiculous superhero getup is a joy to behold.   A major highlight of the show is the opening sequence, which features the cast doing a fabulous dance number set to a Norwegian glam metal song, with Cena front and center.  The rest of the cast is similarly strong, but I want to highlight the work of Freddie Stroma as the weirdly sweet psycho, Vigilante, and Danielle Brooks rocking the normcore energy as Leota in particular.  It's been a while since I've seen a genre show where I really was rooting for everybody to survive in a universe that wasn't afraid of killing people off.

Gunn is growing on me, though I still think his sensibilities aren't a good fit for the Marvel universe.  He's clearly way more comfortable on the DC side, which has been willing to let him get as nasty and filthy as he wants.  I never expected Warners to go all in on adult-oriented superhero media, but here we are, and it's pretty cool.

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A Trip to "Nightmare Alley"

I watched the 1947 film noir version of "Nightmare Alley" starring Tyrone Power a few months ago in preparation for the Guillermo Del Toro version.  I could see why he liked the story, which involves a seedy carnival and a mentalist scam.  There is also clearly a monster, the troubled protagonist Stanton Carlisle, whose ambitions eventually lead to a grotesque downfall.  I found the film entertaining, but also limited by being very much a product of its time. 

The 2021 version is significantly better, though it has its flaws.  For one thing, Del Toro's version is forty minutes longer, and runs into significant pacing issues.  For another, the disjointed storytelling makes it more obvious that "Nightmare Alley" is based on a novel, and runs into trouble getting some of its narrative conceits work onscreen.  However, Del Toro does succeed in adding some depth to the characters.   Stanton Carlisle, played by Bradley Cooper, is a far more fascinating, disturbing lead.  The movie opens on him dragging a dead body through an empty house, which he proceeds to set on fire and abandon.  The specter of this act haunts him throughout the rest of the film.

The story is split into two distinct parts.  In the first, Stan joins a carnie outfit during the Great Depression, run by Clem (Willem Dafoe).  He picks up tricks from the clairvoyant act of Zeena (Toni Collette) and Pete (David Strathairn), and falls in love with Molly (Rooney Mara), a girl with an electrocution act.  The second half involves Stan working as a mentalist a few years later, attracting the attention of a psychologist, Dr. Lilith Ritter (Cate Blanchett), who helps him swindle more upper class clientele, including the reclusive Ezra Grindle (Richard Jenkins).  With a cast this strong and Del Toro's usual lavish visuals, "Nightmare Alley" had no trouble keeping my attention throughout.      

Del Toro fans should keep in mind, however, that this is a film that abides by the parameters of a traditional classic noir film.  While we get some of Del Toro's usual genre flair, with the carnie characters and Stan's mentalist act, he plays the melodrama totally straight.  There's nothing supernatural at work going on here, except in Stan's illusions.  The imagery is heightened and reflects Stan's psychological turmoil - in the second half it always seems to be snowing - but stays firmly grounded in reality.  The horror comes from very lurid, but very human sources, namely the disturbing figure of the carnival geek and Stan's own complicated nature as a con-man and killer.  I was expecting Del Toro to be more subversive and more revisionist, the way he was with "The Shape of Water," but this is a pretty faithful adaptation of the original novel and film.     

I haven't been the biggest fan of Bradley Cooper in the past, but I think the reason "Nightmare Alley" works as well as it does is because I could sympathize with and occasionally root for this version of Stanton Carlisle in a way that I couldn't with the Tyrone Power version.  Those extra forty minutes largely go toward fleshing out Stan and some of the other characters like Molly and Dr. Ritter.  Modern touches are few, but the language and the women are both noticeably stronger.  I like that Stan ambles more reluctantly down the road toward his own predestined doom, and his downfall is generally sadder and subtler.  It genuinely feels like a tragedy when he transgresses, rather than a set-up for the deserved comeuppance.

 

There aren't many directors who can get a passion project like this made, even though the reported budget wasn't outrageous.  I certainly enjoyed this more than something like "Mank," but at the same time I prefer Del Toro's more full throated genre pictures.  Noir is simply not my genre - though it's always a pleasure to see one executed by someone who clearly cares so much about getting it right.

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"Station Eleven" is Something Special

I chickened out of watching the recent adaptation of "Y: the Last Man" after the reviews came in, and a major complaint was that its post-apocalyptic world was too depressing.  Frankly, it's a bad time to be any kind of depressing media.  I've been having a rough time just getting through the gloomier Oscar films this year.  HBO miniseries "Station Eleven," however, bucks the trend.  While the characters do live through a worldwide pandemic that kills off 99% of the population, the point of the series is that they do, in fact, live.

"Station Eleven," based on the Emily St. John Mandel novel, follows a collection of loosely connected characters at two different points in time.  First, we begin at a theater performance of "King Lear," where an audience member named Jeevan Chaudhary (Himesh Patel), decides to escort a child actress named Kirsten (Matilda Lawler) home, after the outbreak kills the lead actor, Arthur (Gael Garcia Bernal), and leaves the troupe in disarray.  After a few misadventures, Jeevan eventually brings Kirsten to his brother Frank's (Nabhaan Rizwan), to wait out the crisis.  Twenty years later, the adult Kirsten (Mackenzie Davis), travels a slowly rebuilding Great Lakes area with a different Shakespearean theater troupe, the Traveling Symphony.  Her found family includes other artists and performers like her mentor Sarah (Lori Petty), and youngster Alexandra (Philippine Velge).   

This is one of those shows, like "Lost," and "The Leftovers," that tells its story from multiple perspectives, and parcels out important information a little at a time.  After the first two episodes centering on Kirsten, she barely appears in the third, which is about the relationship of Arthur and his first wife Miranda (Danielle Deadwyler), and not at all in the fifth, which is about a group of survivors sheltering in an airport, including Arthur's best friend Clark (David Wilmot) and his second wife Elizabeth (Caitlin Fitzgerald).  We don't learn what happened to Frank and Jeevan until the seventh and ninth episodes respectively, with little flashes of them from Kirsten's memory in other episodes to provide foreshadowing.  However, everyone's story is told to my satisfaction, and I like the show's messages about connection and survival, and how the dead and their art can influence us long after they're gone.   

  

Created by Patrick Somerville, best known for writing on "The Leftovers" and "Maniac," the show is definitely a genre piece, but a far more thoughtful and grounded one than the majority of post-apocalyptic fiction.  There is a villain, a cult leader named Tyler (Daniel Zovatto), but he's probably the weakest part of the show.  Where "Station Eleven" really shines is in its worldbuilding and character building.  We really get to know all of these people intimately, and it makes their victories, their sacrifices, and the tenuous, precious relationships they form with each other all the more moving to witness.  Once you work out how certain people and places are linked, it's so satisfying to see the whole, remarkably detailed tapestry of their growth and development, and the hardy little communities that they're able to create.  Rewatch some early episodes after the finale, and you'll find more connective tissue everywhere.

The direction has some lovely, fantastical touches.  A recurring element is a comic book called "Station Eleven" that both Tyler and Kirsten are obsessed with, and is eventually revealed to have been written by Miranda.  Its main character is a lost astronaut, who keeps appearing throughout the show, unseen by anyone else, like an angelic witness.  There are several other instances of dreams and visions colliding with reality.  Sometimes it's not clear whether something is happening literally or figuratively or in memories, such as adult Kirsten's reminiscences.  I'm not a big fan of the hippie junkyard aesthetic of the Traveling Symphony players, but it sure adds some wow factor to their Shakespeare adaptations.  The visuals are just the right mix of the odd and the familiar, and no surprise that Hiro Murai had a hand in the look of the show.    

Honestly, when it comes down to it I just like this set of characters, and the actors performing them really give it their all.  This is the best thing I've seen Himesh Patel do yet, Miranda Lawler is an irresistible newcomer, and Mackenzie Davis remains one of my very favorite actresses working today.  And it's so nice to see Lori Petty again, and Danielle Deadwyler is a stunner, and Gael Garcia Bernal gets just as much screentime as he needs to make an impression.  It's a rare thing these days, in this kind of show, that we get characters and performances this good.  And "Station Eleven" is one of the rare ones that absolutely shouldn't be missed.

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Ahoy, "Our Flag Means Death"

Moderate spoilers ahead.

I'm not as gleefully happy with the pirate comedy "Our Flag Means Death" as some.  To be honest, the only reason I watched it was because of the rapturous reception it got from the LGBT community.  Created by David Jenkins, the show is about Stede Bonnet (Rhys Darby), an aristocrat who decides to try his hand at piracy.  He hires a crew, buys a ship, and sets off in search of adventure despite being a soft-hearted, bookish gentleman who clearly is not cut out for a life of bloodthirsty piracy.  

Stede's crew are initially perplexed, and not sure whether to mutiny against him or take advantage of his generous nature and deep pockets.  These include Buttons (Ewen Bremner) the "bird guy," level-headed Oluwande (Samson Kayo), tricky musician Frenchie (Joel Fry), the antagonistic Black Pete (Matthew Maher), Jim the Mute (Vico Ortiz), Lucius the Scribe (Nathan Foad), and the Swede (Nat Faxon).  In addition there are plenty of guest stars, including Rory Kinnear, Leslie Jones, Fred Armisen, Kristen Schaal, Will Arnett, and Nick Kroll, all gamely dressing up in fabulous costumes to play pirates, aristocrats, or other colorful characters.  It's really a lovely opportunity to let these silly people all be silly together.

The first few episodes are a little rough, as the crew get their sealegs, and figure out the right balance between the larger-than-life absurdity and exploring the not-so-nice side of piracy.  Stede Bonnet and several of the other characters are based on real historical figures, but we get the nice fantasy versions of them, who are essentially a passel of overgrown kids still working their way towards maturity.  This is especially true with our hero, Stede, who spends most of the season grappling with his first real romantic relationship, and mustering the courage to face the consequences of having deserted his wife Mary (Claudia O'Doherty) and children in order to go off adventuring.  

As I've mentioned, the LGBT community loves this show, because part of the show's fantasy conceit is that it takes place in a very progressive space where a variety of gender identities and sexualities are accepted among the main characters, though not the wider world.  Jim codes as trans or nonbinary, though it's not explict.  There are more gay romances going on than straight ones, which is understandable considering that most of the cast is male.  When female characters do appear, they're vibrant and interesting.  It quickly becomes apparent that "Our Flag Means Death" is intent on devoting a lot of energy toward questioning traditional gender dynamics and roles.  One of my favorite gags is when we discover that being abandoned was the best thing that ever happened to Mary.  

I don't want to say too much about the role of the fearsome Blackbeard (Taika Waititi) in this show, because it's really wonderful to see the whole story unfold, but when he and his first mate Izzy Hands (Con O'Neill) show up around the fourth episode, everything really starts to snap into place.  "Our Flag Means Death" feels very much like a Waititi project, with its deeply silly comedy paired with some really touching character stuff going on.  Rhys Darby is a fantastic lead, not only because he's hilarious, but because after a few episodes he gets you to root for Stede, and love him for all of his fussiness and cowardice and insane optimism.  And it really surprised me how much I cared about what happened to him by the time the last episode rolled around.  

I think this show is only possible because of recent advances in technology that let the production be shot with virtual backdrops instead of trying to shoot on location, or having to fill in too much in with CGI.  It's a really gorgeous show, full of fun visual details and heightened imagery.  Stede's beautifully ornate ship, The Revenge, is wildly impractical and a perfect reflection of his personality.  I especially enjoy the costumes, which make everyone look so good, and do a lot of the heavy lifting when it comes to the worldbuilding.  The second you see Leslie Jones all decked out as the badass Spanish Jackie, you know exactly who she is.       

Oh, and I'm an absolute sucker for a classic rock soundtrack. 

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"West Side Story" Wows

I've had a recurring complaint with the last few Steven Spielberg films that boils down to them being so dependent on nostalgia and sentiment.  While usually technically stunning, they felt increasingly insular, and often hellbent on mythologizing the past.  When I heard that Spielberg was remaking "West Side Story," I wasn't looking forward to it.  The 1961 adaptation was never one of my favorites, and frankly felt very out of date by the time I saw it in the '90s.  It didn't occur to me that Spielberg intended to drastically update the material.  It never crossed my mind that he would succeed, and succeed beautifully.

The 2021 version of "West Side Story" is so much better than the 1961 version, I'm still a little in shock.  First, all the Puerto Rican characters are cast with Latino actors, and often speak in unsubtitled Spanish.  No more bad accents and distracting brownface makeup.  Aside from the leads, nearly all the cast members are Broadway vets, so the dancing and vocals are not compromised an inch.  And Leonard Bernstein and Stephen Sondheim's music has never sounded better, rearranged and remixed to accommodate some changes to the story.  I love John Williams, but there's something about the marriage between Speilberg's visuals and the musical form here that enlivens both.  It feels like this is the first proper Steven Spielberg film I've seen in ages, because there's so much inventiveness and verve and energy in this film that's been missing from his work for so long.    

There's nothing fundamentally different in Spielberg's work in "West Side Story" from his work in "Ready Player One" or "The Post," or any of his other recent films.  The sweeping Steadicam shots and the eye-popping colors are very familiar, just as the strains of "Maria," and "America," and "Tonight, Tonight" are.  However, "Tonight, Tonight" is now being sung by Rita Moreno, playing an elderly shopkeeper named Valentina, a character created for the film.  "Officer Krupke" has been restaged into a boisterous number inside the police station after the Jets have been arrested.   Anybodys (iris menas) was originally a tomboy character in the 1961 musical, but is a transman here.  Note that the character hasn't really changed, but the audience's understanding of gender dynamics over the last sixty years sure has.   

It's the same with the turf war between the Caucasian Jets and Puerto Rican Sharks.  Screenwriter Tony Kushner has added a ton of additional context and character details for the major players, pointing out the particular struggles each of them face, and that both groups are about to be displaced by the gentrification of Manhattan.  The kids' cynicism about America and about their futures has never rung so true.  As is tradition, the least interesting characters in this Romeo and Juliet story are the Romeo and the Juliet.  Ansel Elgort is the weakest link as Tony, but I think he's perfectly serviceable. So is newcomer Rachel Zegler as the wide-eyed Maria.  They just happen to be completely outclassed by Ariana DeBose's electrifying Anita, Mike Faist's danger-seeking Riff, and David Alvarez's glowering Bernardo.  These actors are all theater pros, so of course they are.    

The best thing I can say about Spielberg's "West Side Story" is that I often completely forgot that I was watching "West Side Story," to the extent that I was constantly being surprised when a familiar song would start playing during a scene I was already engrossed with.  The school dance scene, for instance, puts the viewer right in the middle of so many simmering tensions between so many different characters that the beginning of the "Mambo" sequence caught me totally off guard.  There's plenty of nostalgia in the film for the older versions of "West Side Story," but it's done with care and consideration.  Moreno's appearance in the film, for instance, is far more than a cameo.  In the end, however, I found the film elicits more happy memories of early Spielberg than anything else.  When Maria and Tony have their fateful meeting, something about the shimmer of the lights and the swell of the music makes me feel like a five year-old watching "E.T." again.  

2021 turns out to have been a great year for musicals after all.   

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The Posts I Almost Wrote Today

There's a lot going on in the entertainment world right now, topics that I really want to write posts on, but I know I'm not in a place to say anything worthwhile about - at least not yet.  Netflix is in crisis after a subscriber loss and resulting stock price crash.  Johnny Depp and Amber Heard's defamation trial has taken over social media and the Youtube algorithm.  Disney is in a fight with the GOP.  We're facing down a bare bones summer film slate with big blockbusters being delayed all over the place.  Oh, and the Russia/Ukraine conflict is still in full swing, the January 6 investigation keeps turning up more dirt, and this pandemic still isn't over.  

Let me focus on the first three stories, though, and why I'm wrestling with what and how much to say on these topics.  

I've written quite a lot about Netflix over the years, cheerleading their efforts to be an industry disrupter and create the current streaming status quo as we know it.  Full disclosure: I still own some of their stock.  However, in recent years the shine has worn off for a variety of reasons.  The big one is that the rest of Hollywood has caught up to their innovations, and the streaming wars are in full swing. Netflix, despite knowing that it was coming for years, has failed to account for the competition.  They're still clinging to a set of directives that worked well for them in the past, but are now actively holding them back.  Owning rather than licensing their available content, releasing episodes all at once to support binge viewing, day and date releases that have antagonized the movie theaters, and prioritizing quantity over quality when it comes to their content, are just a few of them.  

Every day there's a new article about the chaos behind the scenes at Netflix. A lot of the mess seems to stem from mismanagement.  The Wrap's expose on the "Kids & Family" segment of Netflix Animation is a good example, detailing how Netflix canceled promising projects and lost creators because of draconian rules and metrics that kneecapped shows right out of the gate.  There's so much still coming out about the company's dysfunctions and anything I write now may have to be updated in days, if not hours.  They're definitely losing on the PR front.  All of Netflix's responses so far have been to assuage their investors rather than their subscribers.  Suddenly, an ad supported tier is coming after Netflix being staunchly ad-free since their inception.  Suddenly they want to crack down on password sharing.  It's inevitable that Netflix is going to lose more subscribers next quarter.  Everyone with complaints about the service has been enjoying the schadenfreude, but I have much more mixed feelings.  Regime change may be in order, but the last thing I want is to see Netflix crash and burn and be eaten up by a competitor, further consolidating the already too consolidated entertainment industry. 

On Johnny Depp and Amber Heard, the highly publicized trial isn't telling me anything new that I haven't heard through the usual gossip channels over the last ten years.  Depp was one of my favorite actors when I was a teenager and young adult, and when his personal troubles started hitting the press, I quietly resolved to stay out of any of the discourse.  My biases have never left me.  However, from the evidence that I've seen, Depp and Heard are both deeply troubled people who have been terrible to each other.  The degree to which one is more culpable than the other is not something I feel comfortable drawing conclusions about.  Public sentiment is clearly with Depp, but I'm not so sure.

And frankly, if that were all there was to the story, I would be happy not to comment at all.  The trouble is that the media scrum around the trial has become so huge and so out of control, it's turning Amber Heard into a pariah.  I am very, very uneasy about this because it's giving the online misogynist creep community someone to rage and froth against, and the level of vitriol is disturbing to see.  If this is who Johnny Depp's fans are now, I don't think I want to be one.  At first, part of me was relieved that Depp was seeing some image rehabilitation after the public drubbing he took after the earlier British defamation trial, resulting in his firing from "Fantastic Beasts," and the cancellation of other projects.  However, I quickly became aghast that he chose to do this by orchestrating a media circus and subjecting Heard to this kind of deranged witch hunt.  I have been trying very hard to ignore the trial, but it's reached O.J. levels of public fascination over the last few days, ensuring that we'll be hearing about this for years to come.  I've even caught myself wondering, idly, who will play Depp and Heard in the inevitable made for TV movie.    

Finally, there's the Mouse.  I can't write a full post about this because so much of it concerns politics, and I try to keep politics out of this blog as much as possible.  I have consistently failed to keep any kind of neutral POV on the subject.  Anyway, what began as Bob Chapek mishandling a PR situation has now blown up into a full-on grudge match against the Florida GOP over the "don't say gay" law.  This is one of the few times I've been unreservedly on the side of the Mouse, though I'm more than a little annoyed that it took so much public shaming to get them to do the right thing.  Still, I do understand the hesitancy given that Disney has now attracted the attention of the supremely annoying QAnon conspiracy nuts, who are busy staging protests and denouncing Disney as part of the Coco Puffs cabal, or whatever.

What's more interesting here is how this seems to be part of a trend of greater LGBT normalization at Disney.  It's been incremental but it's there.  Disney declined to edit out a line of dialogue about a character's lesbian moms, so that the newest "Doctor Strange" movie could play in Saudi Arabia.  Their young adult "Love, Victor" series is coming to Disney+, after worries over its LGBT themes pushed it to Hulu for its first two seasons.  At this point, I don't think anybody can say that Disney isn't willing to take some risks. They're not particularly big risks as long as Ron DeSantis keeps shooting himself in the foot, but still I appreciate the effort. 

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